


Clothes Swap

by ficsandcatsandficsandcats



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:34:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23993839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ficsandcatsandficsandcats/pseuds/ficsandcatsandficsandcats
Summary: Reader Request: Oooh how about one of my favorite cliches? The reader attends a fancy ball and picks out her nicest dress and wants to go support and impress Jaskier, but another girl gets jealous of her getting all the attention from Jask and trashes the dress right before she gets the chance to ask him for a dance. Not sure about the outcome.
Relationships: Jaskier | Dandelion/Reader
Kudos: 27





	Clothes Swap

You practically vibrated with excitement as you entered the ballroom. This was the moment you’d been waiting for since Jaskier had secured his position as premier entertainer. Well, one of the many moments. There had been coming downstairs after getting ready with Yennefer and Geralt giving you a small smile and complimenting you on how you looked, rare praise indeed. Then there had been entering the room, seeing all the eyes on you but most importantly seeing Jaskier’s as he took in your gown. You’d been saving this gown for a special occasion. It was pale pink and flowed around you like the softest, loveliest cloud. He’d made you promise to save him the first dance when he was finished, and you waited patiently as he performed. Every wink, every gesture, every word of praise for whatever lady fair he sang of was sent to you. You blushed at the attention, but you also preened, tallying up the moments as they came, eagerly anticipating the most important one; the dance. You pictured the moment over and over in your head. He would walk over to you and hold out a hand, asking you for this dance with that roguish smile he gave. You would curtsey and accept his hand. He would whisk you onto the floor, the dress swirling around you and you would dance all night in a close embrace while he whispered all the words you’d been waiting to hear.

Jaskier approached the end of his song, eyes on you with a look of soft adoration as he sang praises of a woman in pink (though you knew he’d changed that lyric just for you) and suddenly his expression turned from one of delight to shock. You turned towards where he was looking just in time for the wine to blind you. A full goblet had been thrown in your face, pouring down onto the dress and staining it in rivulets of deep crimson.

You ran, trying to wipe your face clean fruitlessly, your hands covered and smearing more of it on you. You felt your arms grabbed on each side and then Yennefer’s voice.

“This way,” she instructed. “You can catch her later, help me with Y/N right now.”

“Hmm,” an angry growl came from your left and you realized Geralt was helping guide you somewhere private. You heard a door shut and then you were seated on something soft. Before long, a towel was pressed gently into your hands and you used it to wipe your face, taking off the makeup you’d so carefully applied earlier in the evening. Once you could see you looked down at the dress and angry tears filled your eyes.

“It’s ruined,” you whispered.

There was banging on the door and you heard Jaskier’s voice.

“Y/N? Are you in there? Are you alright? Let me in!” he called. Geralt moved towards the door.

“No wait!” you called, causing him to halt in his steps, “I don’t want him to see me like this. It’s too embarrassing.”

“Y/N he doesn’t care about the dress,” Yennefer said, dabbing at the stains.

“Please let me in, Y/N, I need to see you’re alright with my own eyes,” Jaskier implored. You finally sighed and nodded at Geralt who pulled the door open, Jaskier nearly falling through it in surprise. His eyes quickly sought you and he was by your side in an instant, kneeling and taking one of your hands in his.

“Are you hurt? Did any get in your eyes?” he asked.

“No, I’m not hurt. Other than my pride,” you murmured, avoiding his eyes.

“Well, if you’re certain you’re alright I would like to collect on that dance,” Jaskier said. You looked up at him, eyes widening in surprise.

“You must be joking,” you said.

“Why would I be joking?” he asked, genuine surprise written on his face. You gestured to your body, the wine-soaked fabric that covered you, and looked at him as though he were speaking in tongues.

“Very well, let’s switch clothes,” he suggested.

“Sorry I think I must have wine in my ears, what was that?”

“I said let’s switch clothes. Mine might be a bit loose on you but I think I can squeeze into that dress,” he elaborated, eyes sizing you the garment.

“You’re serious aren’t you?” you asked.

“Absolutely. C’mon, Y/N, let’s show them that they can’t chase us away. You belong on that floor and I belong by your side,” Jaskier implored, squeezing your hand tightly in his.

The next several minutes were a blur. You and Jaskier were ushered to opposite sides of the room where Geralt and Yennefer helped you both undress, passing the garments back and forth with shared amused smiles. When all was said and done you stood in his clothes, more than a little bit impressed by how nicely you looked in his emerald doublet and trousers, enjoying the risqué low-cut of his undershirt and how it allowed a peek of cream colored chemise through. Jaskier wore your stained dress and somehow made it look like a piece of high fashion instead of a soiled garment.

“Almost perfect, just one more thing,” Yennefer said, approaching Jaskier with a tube of lipstick. She held his face steady by the chin and applied the deep, berry shade to his lips. He puckered at her playfully when he saw done and she swatted him and sent him on his way to you.

“You ready?” he asked, taking your hand in his.

“Ready,” you answered, gripping his tightly, excitement filling you once again.

There were moments you planned and practiced for, and then there were moments you never could have predicted. The moment you walked back into the ballroom hand-in-hand with Jaskier while Geralt and Yennefer walked behind you, glowering threateningly at anyone who so much as glanced at the two of you oddly, was one you could never have foreseen but would forever be one of your favorites. As well as the moment Jaskier took you in his arms and danced with you in a nearly empty ballroom as people moved away from the odd sight of the two of you. You would never be invited back to one of these balls and Geralt never did get to find the woman who’d done this to you, but the night turned out more perfect than you could have ever imagined. And when he pulled you in for a kiss, your hand tangling in the soft tulle of the neckline and the rough hair on his chest, the berry lipstick smearing on your face, you knew you would never be happier than that very moment.


End file.
